Mirror Image
by Nan
Summary: It's hard being a parent. Especially, when your son is a mirror image


Title: Mirror Image  
  
Author: Nan  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Classification: vignette, Harm/Mac  
  
Spoilers: All episodes up to season 8 but specific reference to "The Guardian" from season 2.  
  
Summary: This is one of those Mac/Harm future family stories. Harm and the relationship with his son.  
  
A Sunday in May 2018  
  
Chambersburg Skydiving Center  
  
Chambersburg, PA  
  
He looked up from his desk, peering out the small window of the portable building that held his office. A tall man in a dark uniform was climbing out of a SUV. The vehicle had a thin film of dust from the gravel road that led to the airstrip. Besides that one small imperfection, both the man and the vehicle were flawless.   
  
Squared away, he thought and smiled at that particular military expression. It had been a long time since he had been in the Navy. It was 45 years since the last American troops left Vietnam. Which meant he was officially a senior citizen.  
  
He studied the approaching man carefully, trying to pick out details that the broadcasts from the Pentagon missed. This man had recently become a daily face on the evening news. The networks made much of his Hollywood looks and illustrious service record. Maybe it was because the current press from the latest Korean conflict was not good. The hacks from the administration loved the little bit of positive press generated by the newly minted CNO. It was a little bit of sunshine in an otherwise gloomy political scene.  
  
Surprisingly, for once the press had it right. Admiral Harmon Rabb Jr. was a true American hero. Former Navy Seal Paul Bauer thought back to his chance encounter with the man. 'The incident may not have ranked highly on the national security scope but he saved my sorry ass.'  
  
Unfortunately, today this particular four-star admiral had a different set of problems. Today he was the father of the kid slumped down in the wooden chair in the corner of the room. A kid, who had managed to complete two out of the three days of skydiving school before his proper age was discovered. Matthew Rabb was only fourteen.   
  
Chances are the boy would have gotten away with the deception. Bauer had been fly-fishing for trout upstate for last two days, and returned to the drop zone only this morning. He recognized Rabb the minute he walked into the hangar. Twenty-two years peeled away when he looked into the piercing blue eyes of the tall teenager. He was the spitting image of his father.  
  
He had registered under the name of AJ Roberts. This had only thrown Bauer for a minute. Then he recognized the last name as Rabb's sidekick from JAG years ago. He remembered the look of astonishment on the kid's face when Bauer connected the dots like that. What he didn't know was the encounter with the then Commander long ago was a seminal event in Bauer's life. He remembered the details like it was yesterday. And that included the name of all the players.  
  
Misrepresenting his age to the skydiving school wasn't Matt Rabb's only transgression of the day. He also had borrowed the 19 year-old Robert's Honda motorcycle. It turned out that AJ was camping down the road at Gettysburg this weekend with some friends. Which was where Rabb was supposed to be.   
  
The bell over the door tingled as it was opened. Bauer stood up and moved away from his desk. He held out his hand. "Admiral."  
  
"Bauer." For a brief moment, there was genuine warmth in the Admiral's look. "It's been a long time. I appreciate you calling me like this."  
  
"No problem, sir. I have my own son," he said. "I know what its like."  
  
"I remember. How's he doing?" Bauer noticed that he was studiously ignoring the boy in the corner.  
  
"Law school, Cornell," he said proudly.  
  
"A lawyer?" Rabb's smile broadened a bit.  
  
"Could be worse, sir."  
  
The admiral turned his attention to the corner. "Matt," he said grimly. "You got something to say to this man?"  
  
Still slouched in the chair, Matt turned his eyes skyward to meet his father's. "I guess this is the part where I say I'm sorry."  
  
The words and tone seemed innocent enough but Bauer noticed the Admiral tense immediately. Matt slowly uncoiled his long lanky frame from the chair, standing nearly eye-to-eye with his father. "That would be a start," said the admiral.  
  
"Don't make a big deal out of this, Dad. AJ and his friends are only a little ways to the east. They're hiking the battleground during the day. He didn't need the bike. So I drove ten miles over a couple of dusty side roads. So what."  
  
"You bet it's a big deal. I drove two and half-hours this morning. Your Aunt Harriet is currently also making the same two and half hour trip to collect AJ's bike since I'm jammed for time. Your mom is cutting her weekend short in North Carolina to meet us when we get home. Why? Cause at this particular moment I don't trust you enough to do your homework tonight. This gentleman here is in danger of having his skydiving school license revoked. And you could have killed yourself or someone else on that bike."  
  
"Two hours," Matt said quietly.  
  
The admiral continued to glare at his son. "What?"  
  
"It's only a two hour drive from Maclean. Not two and half."  
  
Bauer got the distinct impression that the admiral was restraining himself from cuffing the kid across the head. Finally, Matt lowered his eyes and turned to Bauer. "Sorry," he mumbled quietly to Bauer.  
  
He acknowledged the apology. "Come back when you're 18, kid. You will make a fine skydiver. It was fun, right?"  
  
There was a wistful look on Matt's face. "Unbelievable."  
  
Bauer smiled knowingly. The kid had the bug all right. The admiral broke into his thoughts. "Where's your pack?" he said to his son.  
  
"Outside."  
  
"Put it in the car," he said and turned to Bauer as he turned to open the door. "Thanks again, Paul. I owe you one."  
  
"No problem, sir. You know, there are exceptions to the rule. If you, as his father were active skydiver here, I could let him jump at 16."  
  
Matt moved towards his Dad standing by the open door. "Like that is ever going to happen," and ducked outside.   
  
Bauer looked at the father and shook his head in sympathy. "Kids, eh admiral?"  
  
"Yeah," he said without humor. "Kids. He's only fourteen. And it's not like I don't have enough to do."  
  
"Busy, admiral?" Bauer studied Rabb. The hair around his temples was gray and there were deep lines around his eyes. Man, he thought, CNO, that's a 24/7 type of job.   
  
"That's an understatement," He turned to leave.   
  
"Say hello to the major for me, sir."  
  
A slow smile crept across Rabb's face as he realized whom he meant. "Colonel Mackenzie, retired?" he corrected. "I will. I'm sure Mac'll want to thank you herself."  
  
"You both have a fine son, Admiral. Don't be too hard on him. He seems lot like you."  
  
Rabb only snorted in reply. Bauer watched as he walked out of the office.  
  
#  
  
1648 Eastern   
  
Mac and Harm's House  
  
Mclean, Virginia  
  
Mac checked her mental time against her watch. She was positive Harm and Matt would already be here when she arrived. Oh well, the trip from Pennsylvania must be longer than I thought. She was standing over the sink in the spacious kitchen of their home. She checked the window again, trying to get a glimpse of Harm's vehicle.   
  
She had spent a three-day weekend to go down to Raleigh to visit Chloe and her family. The two girls had been dying to see Aunt Chloe's new baby. Harm's call about Matt had only cut the weekend short by a couple of hours.   
  
'Harm has such a short fuse these days,' she thought. 'And Matt knows just how to light it.'   
  
She had just started to collect the ingredients for dinner from the fridge when she heard the garage door open. Mac grabbed a knife and quickly cut up a few veggies before the door opened and the inevitable whirlwind began.  
  
It was only Harm and he was alone. "Where's Matt?" she asked as she lifted her face to his warm kiss.  
  
He jerked his thumb towards the basement door. "Cleaning his camping gear," and he walked toward the sink to clean his hands.  
  
"Is there anything left of our son?" she asked. "Or are there bits of him strewn along the roadside from Chambersburg to here?"  
  
Harm gave her a withering look. "Your son thinks I'm making a big deal out of nothing, Mac. I might as well be talking to the wall when I talk to him. What was he thinking? Taking AJ's ID, driving his bike, spending $800 on this fool hardy idea."  
  
Mac continued his line of thought. "...and he might have gotten himself hurt or worse." She raised an eyebrow at Harm.  
  
"Yeah, that's exactly right. He might have."  
  
"All for a to experience the adrenaline rush of stepping out of a plane, feeling the wind around your face and the thrill of the ground rushing towards you and the release when your chute finally opens," she said.  
  
Harm was frustrated at her lack of understanding. "He's too young for this, Mac. When did football, soccer and basketball go from exciting to dull?"  
  
"I don't know, Harm. You might want to ask yourself the same question."  
  
"This isn't about me, Mac," Harm looked at his watch. "I've run out of time. I need to be at the Pentagon in thirty minutes."   
  
"What's up tonight?" Since her retirement, she found herself less and less interested in the mindless politics of the Pentagon. But for Harm's sake, she kept up as best she could. He often looked for her opinion on important issues.  
  
"A report to the security council," he said snatching a carrot from the counter. "No time. Maybe there will be time to 'debrief' you later." He smiled suggestively at the double entendre.   
  
She smiled back. "Only if you're home at a reasonable hour. Does the Secretary of Defense realize he has a dirty old man as CNO?"  
  
His grin broadened. "Me? I'm a boy scout. Which reminds me, did you get a dress for next week's soiree at the White House? Make it sexy and black. I want them all weak kneed with jealousy over my incredible looking wife."   
  
She looked him in mock disgust. "Harm, I left incredible looking behind ten years ago."  
  
"That's not what I see." He paused before exiting the kitchen. "Don't let Matt brood about this. He's got midterms next week. I expect good marks."   
  
Mac sighed after he left. Good thing Matt wasn't around to hear that last remark. More and more he was chaffing under his Dad's high expectations. As if on cue, the door from the basement opened and Matt stepped into the room. She wondered if he had been waiting for his Dad to leave.  
  
From the minute he was born, Mac knew she was raising a carbon copy of Harm. Before, she often wondered what Harm was like as a kid, now she had first hand experience. She watched with affection as her first-born prowled the kitchen cupboards for a snack before dinner.   
  
"You're in the dog house," she said trying to be stern but failing.  
  
"Tell me about it," Matt looked exasperated at his mother. "Dad's an idiot. I don't buy his stirring speech about worrying my mother. People jump out of airplanes all of the time. Were you worried that I might get hurt?"  
  
"Nooo, but you got to admit that you put a lot of people out over this little stunt." Mac smiled to herself. Harm must have been in fine form on the drive home. "Not to mention wasting money. Look, Matt, I realize there are things you want to do and places you want to go. It will all come in time when you are older," she said.  
  
"Mom, you really think it's going to be different when I'm older? Look, there are only two conversations Dad and I have these days. He lectures me about my homework or gives me a speech about the junk food I eat. Outside of that, we don't talk."  
  
Mac tried to suppress a grin but failed. Harm lectures to his son were often preachy and pedantic. "That healthy food thing can be a bit much. I know from experience," she said and they laughed together. "Tell me about the skydiving."  
  
Matt sat down on a bar stool next to the counter. "It was amazing, Mom. The rush when you finally step out of the open door. Nothing else is important at that moment."  
  
"I've been trained in skydiving. It is pretty amazing," said Mac.  
  
"So has Dad but you'd never know it by the way he talks."  
  
"Matt, I think you are being a bit unfair about your Dad," she said.  
  
"Am I mom? He never does anything besides work. He's a stiff." Matt scoffed.  
  
Mac was silent. It was true. Harm's schedule didn't leave much time for anything outside of work. "Matt, you have twenty minutes before dinner. Why don't you start your homework?"  
  
Matt slid off the stool and noogied her on the head as he passed. "Thanks, mom."  
  
Mac shook her head and sighed. 'I'm a sucker for that Rabb charm, doesn't matter what age'. As she continued with dinner, she contemplated the incident and Harm's reaction to it.   
  
She and Harm had just passed their 15th wedding anniversary. Harm was 40 when they eventually decided to act on the strong attraction between them. Almost immediately, Mac became pregnant and they started a family. From that day forward, Mac had never looked back. Kids and career hadn't left much time for anything else. Even though she eventually gave up the Marine Corps to focus on her family completely, the fast pace didn't stop. She turned her substantial energy to build a happy home for all of them.  
  
When Harm had been offered the CNO position, it was a comment by retired Admiral Chegwidden that surprised her the most. He attributed Harm's success to her influence. Chegwidden always knew that Harm was a considerable talent, but his restless spirit made the old JAG believe he would max out at a captain's level. That all changed after marriage. With Mac's steadying influence, Harm overcame many of his personal demons to become a force within the Navy.  
  
Mac wondered what was wrong with Harm. Matt had done a lot of things wrong today. He lied to his family, friends and a skydiving school. But there was more to this. Harm was angry with Matt for the risks he took. 'Why?'  
  
When Matt was first born, Harm talked endlessly about his son flying. Sunday afternoons were often spent down at the airfield with Sarah. Harm would pack a lunch and they would picnic somewhere in the hills with the baby.  
  
Mac thought back. 'When was the last time Harm took the Stearman out?' She set the paring knife down and stared unseeingly at the cupboard in front of her. 'I can't remember the last time he flew.' She was shocked at the thought. 'It must be at least five or six years.'  
  
Their life had become busier after the girls were born. Harm spent three rotations in a battle group in command positions to round out his career. Somewhere in the hectic whirlwind he lost his flight status due to reoccurring back problems. The compressed disks were so severe that he gave up flying Sarah too. It was just too painful. Two rounds of surgery eventually corrected the issue. He had resumed most of his athletic activities. 'But not flying. Why?'  
  
Mac heard the front door slam. 'There's the girls,' she thought. They had been visiting the new puppy next door. She mentally set aside her questions. Time to get everyone fed.  
  
#  
  
2230 Eastern  
  
Home of Harm and Mac  
  
Mac stepped over the threshold into her spacious master bedroom. Behind her, the house was finally quiet and dark. The girls had been put to bed two hours earlier. She had put her ear next to Matt's closed bedroom door and heard nothing. He had turned in early.   
  
Harm was seated at the desk in the corner. A desk lamp illuminated the open file in front of him. He was making notes on the legal pad beside the file. He frowned as he concentrated. Something about the sight of him at the desk reminded her of his old loft apartment near Union Station. How many evenings had they spent working on legal files at his desk at that place?  
  
She moved quietly around the room, picking up a discarded magazine and putting away clothes. Stepping into their walk-in closet, she changed into a camisole T-shirt and PJ bottoms. She padded barefoot over to the ensuite bath to wash her face and brush her teeth.   
  
She sat cross-legged on the bed and flipped through the Navy Times. "Harm?" she said, still looking at the magazine.  
  
"Yeah?" came the distracted reply.  
  
"When did you decide to stop flying?"  
  
There was silence from corner of the room as she continued to turn the pages of the magazine. Finally, he stood up and walked over to the bed. He flopped down beside her and rolled onto his back. He looked up at her.  
  
"What makes you think I've given up flying?" he said.  
  
She closed the magazine. "You haven't flown Sarah for six years," she said quietly.  
  
"It hurt my back to pull even the low G's in Sarah."  
  
"I thought the operations fixed that," she said.  
  
"Work has been a bear lately. I barely have time for you and the kids, never mind flying."  
  
"You stopped flying way before this latest assignment. Try again, flyboy."  
  
Harm folded his arms to pillow his head and stared at the ceiling. He was silent.  
  
"Harm?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Does this have something to do with Matt's Leukemia?"   
  
Silence. Then, "It was a hard time on both of us, Mac. You gave up work..."  
  
She sighed, "I realized that there were more important things to life than becoming the first female JAG. We almost lost him, Harm."  
  
Harm closed his eyes, remembering. He had felt so helpless. "And afterwards, when we started to think he might live instead of die, he was still so weak. Remember what the doctor said?"  
  
Mac remembered. "He said that there might be some long term effects of the treatment. Heart problems, stunted growth, and learning disabilities."  
  
"That's when it struck me. My son could never pass a flight physical. He would never fly for the Navy. Or any service, for that matter."  
  
Mac stretched out beside him and laid her head on his chest. "And that's when you stopped flying. 'Cause you thought he would never have the chance."  
  
Harm said. "It wasn't fun anymore."  
  
He reached around her waist with his arms and held her tight. They lay entwined for an immeasurable length of time.   
  
She broke the silence first. "Skydiving today. Harm, you're worried he might like it. And it would lead to things he can't do."  
  
"I guess. Frankly, I wasn't thinking much at all today. I was just reacting."  
  
"He has been cancer free for six years now. Do you ever wonder - maybe the doctor was wrong?" said Mac.  
  
Harm put a voice to the hope. "He is a tall kid. And his marks are pretty good too. Especially for a kid who does next to no homework."  
  
"The doctor gave him a clean bill of health at his last physical. But even if he never passes a Navy exam, getting his private pilots license is a reasonable expectation."  
  
"Are you saying what I think you are saying?" Harm said in a teasing voice.  
  
"And that is?" she asked.  
  
"Are you, Sarah Mackenzie, giving me permission to go out flying?"  
  
"Take it while you can, Harm. Cause that is a limited time offer."  
  
Silence again. Then Harm sighed. Mac turned to look at his face. "Now what's wrong?"  
  
"I'm not sure I can take it," said Harm.  
  
"Take what?" Mac puzzled.  
  
"Watching him from the side lines. Skydiving, flying an airplane, maybe even flight school. I've already done a lifetime's worth of worrying about that kid. He'll put me in an early grave."  
  
Mac nodded sympathetically. "Me too. But would you want it any other way?"  
  
"Mac?" he said drawing her closer.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"I love you."  
  
She snuggled against him. "Yeah, me too."  
  
#  
  
Leesburg Airstrip  
  
A Saturday in June 2018  
  
Leesburg, VA  
  
"It's my turn next," Trish swatted her sister on the arm. Katie let out a squeal. "Mommm!"  
  
Mac ignored them. They were waiting on the apron in front of the main hangar for the yellow biplane that had just bumped down on the gray tarmac. It taxied slowly towards their position.  
  
She could see Harm peering out the rear left side as he guided the plane to a stop. With his ball cap turned backward and his headset on top, he looked like a kid. He grinned and gave her a thumbs-up with his gloved hand. Slowly, he extricated himself from the seat.   
  
Matt was far more nimble. He leaped from seat and hopped down on the tarmac. He ran over and gave her a hug.  
  
She smiled at him, "Let me guess, it was amazing."  
  
As a reward she was treated to a wide Rabb smile. "Mom, we did a 360 degree loop, then rolled and looped again. I was sucked into my seat so tight I couldn't move. Dad even let me take the controls for a while. You see my landing?"  
  
She nodded. "That was you?"  
  
"Yeah," he enthused. "Dad talked me down the whole way."  
  
She looked over to Harm. He was standing at the front of the plane folding open the engine cover. She watched as he reached down into the greasy conglomeration of knobs and steel.   
  
She walked over and stood beside him.   
  
"What did he think of the flight?" Harm asked.  
  
"He can barely contain himself. He thought it was amazing."  
  
"It was pretty good. I let him fly. Did he tell you?"  
  
"Yup. Was it as good as the dream?" she asked.  
  
"What?" he said.  
  
"Flying with your son."  
  
"Better. You have no idea." said Harm frowning in concentration at the greasy lever he was turning.  
  
"What are you doing? Is something wrong?" Mac was puzzled.  
  
He gave it one more wrench, then pulled a long black hose from engine. "I think I have a hole in the fuel line. I lost pressure up there. We were lucky to make it down..."  
  
Mac looked at him, arms akimbo, hands on her hips, "Harm...." There was a threatening tone to her voice.  
  
He looked up. "Whaaaat?" he said and winked at her. 


End file.
